


In Any Other World

by witkneec



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: AU universe, Desk Sex, F/F, I'd do a lot of things to you, Smut, i love au's, i made it so neither of them are cheating, it's 2nd pov so i'm sorry if you hate it, nicole is so desperate, so have some smut, so please don't yell at me about that, waverly is too so it's cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 16:19:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11901480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witkneec/pseuds/witkneec
Summary: "I'd do a lot of things to you."Here. Have my version of all of the things she was talking about.Set in the AU episode universe. Nicole and Waverly's first time in another world.





	In Any Other World

**Author's Note:**

> My favorite scene from 2x11 was definitely the "I'd do a lot of things to you" in the cruiser and I just wanted to write their first time in the AU wish universe so here you go. The day and finding Wynonna didn't happen, the cruiser scene or anything after lunch. Just pretend that Nicole stayed at the office and Waverly came in after talking to Perry. K? K.
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes and please let me know what you think.

It is so late- so, so goddamn late and your eyes are at the point that they often grow to at this time of the morning when you've been staring at paperwork all day and you heave out a sigh when you hear the light padding of footsteps in the hallway. You were only forty three minutes away from Lonnie's less than competent ass coming in for third shift so you could finally get some much needed sleep to prepare for the next day ahead.

The day you were due in the city to finalize divorce proceedings from your wife- a woman you'd married in a swirl of booze and Britney and stupidity during the course of an evening that you barely remember. You'd both tried to make it work at first but then the accident had happened on your half-assed honeymoon and shortly after you'd gotten the job offer in Purgatory and she'd outright refused to move with you and the shine of it all wore off and you were left with a friend and an emergency contact instead of a spouse and at first it was fine, the staying married but not staying together but then- then you'd strolled into Shorty's one morning and tripped head over heels for the girl- Waverly Gibson- behind the bar. And yeah it felt like your heart ejected itself out of your chest and shattered onto the floor when she'd stuttered out she was engaged to a nice boy-man in between your flirtatious remarks and blushing cheeks but it had reminded you what it felt like to be excited about life and falling in love and if you didn't get to experience all of that with Shae, you wanted to be able to again with somebody else. So, divorce. Amicable. Polite. A clean break.

You swallow, hard, when your thoughts turn to Waverly. Your heart pounds in your chest and your mouth goes a little dry and your eyes close despite the perk of your ears at the sound of footsteps growing ever closer to the office. Because you can't help it, you can't. She's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, yeah, but she's also brilliant and brave and a little nerdy and always so fucking adorable and sweet it nearly makes your heart physically ache in the hollow of your ribcage. Because you can't have her- even if sometimes, like earlier today, you're almost convinced you see want in her eyes like when they searched your face and dipped minutely to your lips right before Lonnie's big mouth had ruined the moment- even though you're certain you've never been this deep with someone before and that cuts you to the bone. Because you do want her. So much. God, the things you've thought about on desperate nights when you're laying in bed and unable to sleep, her green eyes immediately behind your lids every time you close your own eyes to chase the slumber that you so desperately need. Things like grasping her hips and pulling her toward you until you're breathing the same air, things like pressing your lips against hers and waiting until she gasps to slip your tongue over hers and press her against the wall when she moans and tightens her arms around your neck and teasing your leg between her legs until she begins to move on her own-

Your eyes jolt open when the steps are finally and suddenly there with you in the station. They take a moment to adjust but your jaw hinges open when the person you had just been thinking of is strolling through the open door and then the swinging saloon doors that lead through toward your desk and the office, her eyes set and her brow furrowed in what you think is concentration. She moves until she is front of your desk, your body frozen as she marches up to it, places her palms on the flat of the desktop, and speaks.

“Hey. Where's Lonnie?”

Your brow furrows in confusion.

“He had a family emergency so he's gonna be here in like forty minutes to take over but you know what that probably means. Me worrying all night long that he's burnt the whole place down-”

But she's not listening, blazing past you and stepping into your new office that you barely use because it's still Nedley's old office but you're up and following her and saying her name like it's a question and stepping into the office and saying it again when you see her closing the shades over the windows, quickly, one by one. 

After she's finished with closing the blinds, she moves toward the door, closing that as well, and muttering a quick “excuse me” to get you out of the way of it. Your confusion morphs into exasperation and you're asking her what her problem is but then- but fucking then- 

Waverly Gibson is launching herself at you and crushing her lips to yours and pushing into you until you're stumbling back and then falling, your body hitting the soft cushions of the old couch and taking a moment to kiss her back once the shock wears off before you're pulling away, the questions and concern in your mind overwhelming the excitement you're feeling, and then words are tumbling out of your lips and she's opening her eyes wide and pulling back until she's basically straddling your hips.

“Waverly- what about Perry? What happened to friends?”

She just gapes for a moment before she swallows and begins to speak, her hands gesturing wildly.

“I told him today that I needed- I needed a break. Because I thought about what you said this afternoon. About the cliff and the jumping and the flying and I just- don't feel that way about him and I never have, like, thought that he was worth the jump, you know? But- but Nicole- you- I'm scared of a lot of things and you're one of them but what you said- I think that- that if you were the cliff, or if you were standing on the other side, maybe- that I wouldn't even hesitate.”

Your eyes are wide. Your mouth is quickly shifting into a delighted smile. Because you can't believe that these words are coming out of her mouth. Can't believe she's here and she's telling you she fucking wants you.

“I scare you?”

Your words are breathy, your tone incredulous because you really can't believe-

She laughs.

“Yes! Because I was all about getting out of this town and going on adventures and doing all of this exciting shit but I realized today- that of all the things in the world that I want to do, the one thing I want to do most in the world is- is you.”

Your cheeks flush. Your mouth aches when your smile stretches as wide as it will go.

“Oh, God,” she's saying, embarrassed, “that sounded way more romantic in my head.”

You're frozen because did she just say she wants to be romantic with you?

She stutters out her next words, her eyes drifting back and forth between your eyes and your lips.

“Okay- could you maybe say something, Nicole, because I really don't know how to do this.”

But you're shaking your head, your smile gone because God- this woman- is everything and you're clenching your fists against the cotton of the couch to quell the urge to just push your hands into the lush of her hair and reconnect your lips and kiss and kiss and kiss her but you want her to take the first step because you need her to be sure about this.

“Oh sure you do.”

You're physically restraining yourself but that does not reflect well in your voice because it's noticeably deeper, more husky, as the want begins to settle low in your belly and ripple out and reaching in-between your thighs.

But she's shaking her head and licking her lips and dipping her eyes once more to your red and ready lips and muttering a half amused, half sultry, “shut up” and already surging forward to settle over you and swallowing the smart mouthed “make me” that you immediately answer with. 

She tastes like coffee and cold and it's the best thing you've ever tasted. You allow her to brace her hands on either side of your head and move her lips almost chastely over yours for a few long moments before the contrary part of you makes you surge forward and push her up and over until you're sitting up and pressing your back upright into the plush of the couch and grasping her hips until she's upright and straddling you and you're cradling her hips with yours and finally sinking your hands in that beautiful, thick hair and pulling until her mouth is sealing over yours and she's whimpering into it, your tongue flicking against her bottom lip and taking advantage of the opening of her mouth with the gasping exhale and slipping it into her mouth. You can't help it as you moan into the kiss, her tongue immediately wrapping around your own and answering with a needy gasp that vibrates back into your mouth. Her hips have begun to move against yours and your face flushes and you clench as she breaks the kiss to take a couple of heavy breaths before delving immediately back in, her hands burying themselves in your hair and pulling you harder and deeper against her. 

She's whimpering into the next kiss and the next after that, her hips beginning to purposefully shift and slide against yours as she searches desperately for some sort of friction. Your hands move to her hips and your fingers clench into the bare flesh of her hips that is exposed by the short of her shirt and the low rise of those painted on jeans to try to control the slow and steady grind she's trying to achieve. You groan into her mouth and move your right hand to sink further into her hair and deepen the kiss when you feel her shift slightly over and move her thigh moving between your own and push up until you're puffing staccato breaths against her lips and screwing your eyes shut because God does she ever feel fucking good and solid and warm against your clit even through your uniform pants and underwear but she's also managed to work your own thigh between hers and holy fuck-

Waverly Gibson is grinding down every time you react to the pleasurable push of her hips and thigh and you cant your hips up with every sharp stab of pleasure, every long and hot and damp slide of her against your thigh even through the fabric of her jeans. And it's like that for long moment- open mouthed, sloppy kisses and desperate shifting hips and wandering hands, the feel of her fingers scraping over your nipple through the fabric of the uniform shirt sparking straight down in-between your legs and nearly propelling her off the couch when your hips shoot up despite your desperate grasp at some semblance of control.

She giggles slightly when you break the kiss to whimper and refocuses her tongue on the slope of your neck, swirling up to the lobe of your ear and scraping her teeth against it before closing around it and sucking slightly. She trying to kill you, you swear to God. 

She's busy peppering your jawline with open mouthed kisses and light nips with her teeth and you're so entranced, so lost in the darkness of your closed eyes and the sensation of her mouth and lithe fingers, that you barely notice when she begins to unzip your uniform and slips her hand underneath, cupping a heavy breast and running her thumb over the erect nipple.

You gasp raggedly and drop your head onto the back of the couch, cursing and hissing when the touch grows harder and her other hand joins its twin, palming the other breast and giving your nipple equal treatment with a calloused palm over lace. Her hips have begun to move urgently to keep up with your own pistoning hips and she's almost growling into your ear and her palms move down and you open your mouth to say something, anything, but then you hear the tell tale rustling of the metal clasp of your belt and holy shit her hands are unfastening it, the buckle already open and her fingers reaching for the zip and your mind goes blank and you simply stare wide eyed as they succeed in their task and begin to tug-

But your brain does kick in and you break the kiss and your eyes readjust when you open them and you have to fight the immediate urge to pull her toward you once more and plunder her mouth over and over again because she looks a little chagrined and nervous, like maybe she did something wrong and you never want her to think that but this all so much and you're in your office and- you glance at the clock- only had thirty eight minutes before Lonnie was due into work and you never want hurt her or take advantage-

You shake your head and shift your body underneath hers until she gets the message and slides off your lap and you stand and take a deep breath because the slick between your legs is so distracting but you need to speak- you need to know what the hell is going on.

“Waverly, that was- I don't want you to think that I don't want to do- all of whatever we were building up to there- but- we're in my office and Lonnie is supposed to be here in like less than an hour and I don't want you to regret anything or try to prove anything just because- because you're scared of settling down. I- I just- I think you might have noticed but I really really like you- probably too much- and I don't want to- I just-”

She peers up at you, her cheeks still high with a blush, and studies you for a long moment. Her eyes are soft and her face hardens a little with what you think is confidence or maybe resolve and then she's standing in front of you and merely feet away and looking into your eyes but also flicking them intermittently down to your lips like she just can't help herself. You swear her pupils darken when your tongue flicks out to wet them.

“I- get it. I do. But Nicole- I have wanted you since I met you. It could be now or after your shift or a month from now after I've taken you out on a couple of nice dates but I'm always going to want you the way that I do now.”

A groan leaves your lips and your knees shake and you almost fall as the words threaten to send your ass onto the floor. 

“So- do you have plans tonight? Can I- could I maybe come over and we could-”

She stops to smirk sinfully and focus on your lips for a long beat.

“- talk about all of this. What do you say?”

And you're stood stock still and because is she saying what you think she is?

You nod and have to break eye contact and turn because if you keep looking, you're going to want to touch like you were before so you're turning toward the door and somehow make it all away across the room and get your hand on the door intent on spending the next torturous last few moments of your shift keeping your mind off the fact that the woman of your literal dreams was coming to your house to talk about- about your possible relationship?- with paperwork in an attempt to make the time go faster. But you realize that in the maylay of your roll around the couch, your badge is no longer on your hip so you turn around and-

Waverly is behind you and doesn't notice immediately that you've stopped so she collides into your body, hard, only stabilizing once your hands are braced firm and strong on her shoulders. She looks up once she regains her balance and opens her mouth to apologize but the words die in her throat when she realizes her proximity to you, her throat swallowing audibly and her eyes flicking down to your lips and staring, focused.

You don't know who moves first but you don't fucking care because her arms are wrapping around your neck and her tongue is thrusting directing in your mouth and your hands have a mind of their own and cup her ass, encouraging the slight jump she takes and holding her to you when she wraps her legs around your waist.

You stumble back, mindful of the woman in your arms and set her down on the nearest possible surface, the ledge of your desk, and sweep the various stacks of paper and a cup of pens off onto the floor with a careless hand and help her scoot back as quickly as she can before you're following her down.

It's a little awkward because you're tall but she scoots back just that little bit more on her elbows and opens her mouth the moment you finally blanket her body with yours and duck your head to seal your lips over her lips and touch her tongue with yours. From there, the shirt is stripped off of her body and her bra lost to your eager fingers and suddenly Lonnie and where you are are the last things on your mind because the noise she makes, the way she grips your head to her chest as you swirl your tongue against her nipple before breaking away to take a breath and switch to the other, leaves your brain blank and your mouth all the more hungry and focused on the overwhelming need to touch and taste her and make her come.

Your mind is moving so quickly and your body is thrumming with lust and your heart is pumping harder than you think it ever has before because she's panting and screwing up her eyes and whispering “please” over and over and over again and pulling your head up to crush your lips with hers and roll her hips up and into you as quickly as she can in an attempt to relieve the pressure building between them. And God, not in your wildest dreams could you give true justice to how Waverly looks when she's turned on with her cheeks high with blush chasing her an orgasm that was just beyond her reach. You want to give her more.

You prop yourself up on one hand and break the kiss to run a thumb across her cheek and say her name.

“Jesus, Waves. Do you-are you sure? Really? Because, Waves-”

She shakes her head and you feel the hot breath panting out as you swipe your thumb down against her bottom lip.

“Yes,” she's hissing before flicking her tongue over it teasingly, “please. I've wanted you for months, God-”

She sucks it fully into her mouth and you gasp and can't help but rut harder into her and answer her shuddering sigh with one of your own when she releases your thumb to nip at your lips and push back against the solid form of your thigh.

She pulls at the jeans that you swear were tailor fucking made for her and growls lightly when she gets the button and zip undone but they get bunched around her hips. You pull away, a laugh stuck in your throat that dies immediately when they slip further down and you see that she's not wearing anything underneath. A strangled moan slips out of your lips then as want coils low and pours down in between your thighs and the slight disconnect of your bodies as you pull back to stare, transfixed, at the skin that is slowly being revealed inch by beautiful inch helps her get some leverage and she successfully kicks the offending article off completely and then- then all you can is pull back a little more and stare at her bare and breath-taking in front of you and- Jesus- your eyes travel to the apex of her thighs, at the wetness that you can already see even through her still closed legs.

You shake a head that feels suddenly like it's stuffed full of cotton and your hands are moving before you can even really process the action, grasping her thighs and and spinning her so she's got her legs danging over the front of it, tugging her hair gently until she's sitting up with her hands braced behind her. She's got her brows furrowed and you can see the questions already forming of them but you shake your head and cup her cheeks instead, pulling her in until you can kiss her- hard and deep and full of tongue- until she whimpers and opens her mouth wider.

You whisper your own question into the hollow of her mouth.

“Waves- what do you want?”

She groans, shaking her head and responding to your kiss with equal fervor and enthusiasm. 

“God- whatever you want.”

That won't do and you pull back and watch as her eyes flicker open when she leans in to chase your mouth and is only met with blank space. Her mouth drops open in shock when you skate one of those hands down to right above where she needs you and you repeat the question, chasing it with a wicked slant of your mouth.

It takes a moment, her head snapping back when you swipe your middle finger through the wetness you find there, your own heart sputtering when you realize how wet and hot and fucking amazing she feels.

“God- I- I want your mouth, please.”

All the liquid in your body drains down in between your legs, you swear to God. 

Your knees give out but that's convenient because she's suddenly right in front of you and your hands reach out and gently open her legs and it takes a few seconds but then you're swallowing and looking up and almost laughing at the look on her face what with the bugged eyes and the unbelieving mouth dropped as far as you think it will go before dropping your eyes back to where she is wet and open and ready-

You ask her one more time if this is what she wants. You don't get an answer, not verbally, at least, Instead she threads one of those hands through your hair and pulls, your mouth descending and fixing on her clit, batting at it immediately with your tongue and experimenting with the speed and the pressure and trying to gauge what she likes best. 

The image of her- braced with one hand on your desk and the other buried tightly in your hair and pulling your mouth to her center, her cheeks high with blush and her eyes boring into your own even through the fluttering of her lashes as she battles against the onslaught of sensation you're causing- is almost more than you can bear. She's rutting against your tongue and closing her eyes intermittently against particularly strong jolts when you suck her clit into your mouth, flicking over it with a steady and quick pace.

She's babbling and tightening her hand in your hair and you nearly die when she bends slightly forward to let her other hand join it, your breath coming in short spurts as you struggle to get enough air through the rolling of her hips and the tightening of her fingers in your short locks.

In between the curses and the snaking of her spine, you hear her pant out something that you're sure is a request that feels more like a demand you're only too eager to obey.

“Inside, God, Nicole, please- inside, I'm so- fuck that feels so-”

And then you're sinking one and then two fingers inside of her, moaning out when you're finally able to  
be surrounded by her- wet and slick and tight- and allowing her to adjust to you but it only takes a few shuddering sighs and a couple of erratic beats of your heart before she's arching her back and driving her hips back down into your hand and mouth and gasping out her satisfaction.

It's loud and a little messy and fucking desperate the way you lick and suck at her and thrust your fingers as deep and hard as they can go, smiling against her when she finally lets her body collapse backward and splay, her head knocking slightly at the surface of the desk, her hands still pulling at your hair to aid the movements of your mouth.

You feel the moment it happens- the tightening of her around your fingers, the gush of wetness on your tongue. Her back bows, her hips pop and you have to hold them down with your other hand, your ears echoing with her trilling cry as she comes and comes and comes. You nurse her through it even as a smile begins to fight its way onto your lips. There's another slip of your tongue over her, your fingers still buried inside of her, before you're standing on rickety legs and kissing your way up her body, pausing over her closed eyes and opening your mouth to speak. She doesn't let you, her eyes opening before rapidly closing and pulling your mouth to her own via her still buried hands in your hair. It's wet and open, your tongue ghosting over hers and she moans when she tastes herself, her hips twitching. It reignites the simmering fire in your belly and you instinctively rock your own hips forward, causing her to gasp and look down at where your bodies are still connected.

“God, Waves-” you're panting into her mouth, “Can I- make you come again? Please?”

She groans when you begin to slide your fingers out of her to the very tips before your push them back in forcefully. It causes another wail to crash out of her mouth and into the open air. She comes like that- your fingers curling inside of her, your thumb fastened to her clit, seconds later, still sensitive from her earlier orgasm- her voice screaming your name in tandem with the clenching of her around your hand.

You withdraw after that, push your jacket over her shoulders after you pick it up off of the floor when you see her shiver, and kiss her lips lightly until she begins to breathe more evenly. When you glance at the clock, you curse, and she opens her heavy eyelids to glance her glazed eyes over your form and smile a lazy, satisfied smile your way. 

“What's wrong?”

You speak the words into her mouth with a sigh.

“Nothing- it's just- we only have 15 minutes and while I'm looking forward to the after party at my house,it is no doubt going to be the longest 15 minutes of my life.”

You move to get off of her body and begin to turn to look for her clothes (not because you wanted her to dress but because you needed her to be able to function for the rest of your shift) when you feel a hand on your hip pull you backward and flush with her bare front.

You swallow thickly and try to control your breathing when her own breath pants hot onto the slope of your neck.

“Woah woah woah where do you think you're going? The way I see it, we've still got fifteen minutes and I haven't actually gotten a turn yet.”

You can't quell the moan that rips out of your mouth at the words and before you know it, your head is tipping back onto her shoulder and her hands are working their way down inside your shirt where she had made quick of the zipper and palming your breasts over your bra and biting at the sensitive skin of your ear before speaking low and lust soaked words into it.

“I know that we don't exactly have time to do all of the things that I want to do to you right now but I was thinking that you could- maybe-”

You swallow hard when she draws a finger up the front of your neck and your body pushes back of its own volition. Goosebumps rise on your arms.

“- show me what you like? So I can get down to the real thing back at your place tonight?”

You're nodding and your heart is pounding and you're not sure how you manage but you grab the hand still scraping at your throat and begin to move it down, your breath hitching in tandem with hers as you slide it past the open band of your uniform pants and underneath the cotton shorts you wear with the them for work.

Your knees shake at the first tentative brush of her fingertips underneath your own when she bumps at your clit. You guide her hand, pushing her index finger forward and circling it over the tip, backing off slightly when she gets the hang of it and increases the pressure. She nudges your hand away completely a second later and you can hear her shuddering sigh, feel the dampness of her labored breathing, in your ear.  
“Jesus,” she's muttering, her hand increasing in tempo,”God, you feel. Fuck- you're so wet.”

She bites the lobe of your ear sharply and it sends another jolt through you, your hips snapping with the feel. She seems to be getting lost in you herself, her breath hitching and little gorgeous whimpers slipping out of her throat with every clench of your freed hands on her thigh and shoulder.

You're getting so close and your eyes have begun to close and your hips have started to move in a clockwise motion against the circle of the pad of her fingers and you open up your mouth to tell her as much but it gets stuck in your chest because she's drawing the wet fingers you had used to guide her into her mouth and moaning around them at the taste and increasing the pressure of her fingers on your clit and it's Waverly and she's touching you and you are so fucking close-

And she's telling you again how fucking good you feel and how she can't wait until she gets you home to really touch and taste you and holy shit holy shit holy shit-

Your hips jolt and you begin to come when she abandons your fingers to bite hard at your pulse point, her teeth sinking into the flesh there and mixing with the pleasure she is causing with her shifting fingers underneath your shirt and against your clit. You close your eyes with power of it and barely hear your own voice shout her name before she's removing her hand from your shirt and pulling your hair back with it until your head is on her shoulder and she's kissing you deep and hungry and whimpering with you through the after shocks.

Long quiet moments follow. In between laughs, you find all of her clothes and are very helpful in putting them back on her, mostly. With five minutes to spare, you stand before your desk in the open precinct and smooth her hair with still slightly shaking palms and smile as she reciprocates the action. A lock of eyes is all it takes to have her drawing you in to kiss you lightly at first, the intent changing completely when she nips her teeth at your bottom lip.

The sound of footsteps interrupts the rendezvous. 

You pull away from her, unable to help yourself as you brush her bottom lip lightly with your thumb and try to ignore the way that her eyes immediately cloud with lust. You clear your throat and jump about a foot back when Lonnie barges his way in and stumbles to his chair.

You look at Waverly- at the woman you're pretty sure could be the love of your life- with a smile and mutter out that you'll meet her at your car and you'll drive out together and come back for the Jeep later- to talk at your house.

She turns toward the door and you watch her go, your head tilting despite yourself, and thank God for that Shorty's outfit. Your smirk morphs into a full blown smile when she looks back at you with a bitten lip and heavy eyes. 

“Five minutes.” She says it and you swallow because it's not a question as much as a demand and you- like that part of Waverly, you've decided. A lot.

So you nod and turn to Lonnie and walk him through the slow day and watch her basically float down the hallway.

God- that woman-

And there are a lot of things to talk about like ex wives and ex fiance's but right now- all you can think of is Waverly Gibson waiting for you at your cruiser to go back to your house and talk and maybe do a lot more and Waverly Gibson telling you and showing you that she's wanted you all along. And you know you've always been certain that if there was a Waverly in any universe, there was a you waiting to do whatever it is that she asks and that scares the hell out of you but it also makes your heart beat and your breath still because it's Waverly and she is it, the one you chose and will choose every day for the rest of your life if she'll have you.

You brief Lonnie on the way out the door. He's yelling out questions as you round the corner and wrap your scarf around your neck. You yell at him to figure it out. You really couldn't be bothered, not tonight. Not now.

You duck your head against the cold when you breach the door and can't help the smile that lights your face up when you make out her form where it's propped against the cruiser. 

Waverly meets your giddy smile with her own as you lean down to open her door.

There's a lot to talk about and a lot to figure out but you're sure, as she breaks the kiss and smiles up at you before she ducks into the warming cruiser, that as long as you're around, you will do whatever it takes to stay by her side.


End file.
